


Exchange Rate

by fencer_x



Category: Free!
Genre: Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 15:09:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13437429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fencer_x/pseuds/fencer_x
Summary: Haruka hangs back after a joint practice session for another round. With Rin. Challenges are issued.





	Exchange Rate

"Haru?"

Makoto's soft voice was curious, mildly concerned, and underneath it all, a bit insistent—and he couldn't be blamed, as Haruka was standing there, just standing there, keeping the automatic doors from sliding shut and letting in a blast of heavy, hot air that mixed uncomfortably with the chill of the climate-controlled dormitory lobby.

Summer was dragging on, refusing to loosen its grip and clinging fast, wrapping and entwining and choking until it was all but impossible to remember what it felt like when walking out the door wasn't like stepping into a furnace, when the humidity wasn't almost _suffocating_. The cicadas still squawked their noisy, insistent cries into the air, the sun still beat down mercilessly, peeking through swaying branches to dapple spots of hell along the back, arms, neck. Summer would be with them a while yet, and only dips in the pool or pausing in the front lobby of a friend's dorm provided the briefest of respites.

Haruka regarded the grounds outside, just beyond the doors—Makoto glancing over one shoulder, brows lifted and pulling together in confusion, Rei being animatedly chattered at by Nagisa further in the distance while Gou snapped at them unintelligibly, and still further on, a single bench with a slab of corrugated sheet metal for a roof, their bus stop where they'd board and be shuttled back to the other side of town, a world and more away from the well-kept grounds and air-conditioned dormitories and chlorinated indoor pools of Samezuka Academy. 

"Haru…?" Makoto repeated, a touch more desperately now, and he shifted in place to face Haruka full-on, neck jerking sharply to beckon. "The last bus for a half-hour is due any minute. We'll miss it?"

Joint practice—their third since Regionals—had ended an hour ago, and their shirts no longer clung to wet bodies, their hair no longer darkened with moisture at the ends where it hadn't quite dried yet. Goosebumps raised in the chill of the rooms they'd toured were fading now, and all that lay ahead was a long bus ride back to the station and parting ways.

The first-years had noticed their upperclassman were lagging behind now and waited patiently, Gou waving a hand and urging them on. Makoto glanced over at her—then back again, brows lifting hopefully as if to say _Well?_ Mustn't keep a lady waiting, and all that.

A long beat of silence, and then, "…All right, I'll tell the others." And Haruka's gaze honed to a sharp focus, eyes widening in shock and relief; there was just something _comforting_ about not having to say everything you thought, having someone who understood you enough to spare you the pain and annoyance, and while he never would have admitted it to anyone, somewhere inside, he'd _hurt_ that Makoto had lost the touch. Growing pains were easier to take when someone was there, evolving with you, but Makoto had just been saying _all the wrong things_ lately, hadn't seen the person Haruka was fighting tooth and nail to grow into despite still digging his heels in every effort to stay the same.

Sometimes, he noted to himself, speaking your mind was merited, was _necessary_ , and he wondered if perhaps, had he spoken of these feelings sooner instead of closing himself off to the very people he wanted to swim for now, everything would have gone smoother. If he hadn't fought—if he'd just let it _happen_. No matter how powerful the stroke, fighting against the water just amounted to flailing, sinking, drowning; it was only in giving yourself over to the experience, letting it carry you along, wash you away, baptize you anew that you were able to come out the other end the victor—and not the spoils.

 _Maybe he was scared too_ , he'd thought, before, because it was frightening, he knew, suddenly finding yourself in a world you didn't quite recognize, where the things you cherished and felt outweighed everything else were suddenly barely ripples in the water, where something new clouded your vision, great and overwhelming and _what you wanted_ but not necessarily what you could handle. Haruka could understand feeling apprehension, not wanting to change, not wanting to accept change; it was only natural.

But it wasn't good—it wasn't _right_. And somehow, now, seeing that glimmer of hope, that Makoto had stumbled and faltered but was back on his feet, brushing himself off and charging forward, powering through to catch up to Haruka again and try to _understand_ this new person he was…it sent a shudder of relief through him. _I'm glad you're here_ , he'd said, weeks ago now—and he'd meant it, fiercely. Still meant it now.

"…Just don't miss the last bus, okay?"

Haruka ducked a small nod, then glanced away, feigning profound interest in the marguerites blooming in every shade imaginable in carefully maintained beds along a brick wall. Makoto's gruff chuckle reached his ear—followed by the clapping of sneakers against hard-packed dirt as he rushed to reach the others. Nagisa's voice was unintelligible, but the tone bespoke curiosity and confusion, and Makoto's soft tenor joined in, reassuring and gentle. 

Makoto would make it good, he would make it _okay_ , because he understood Haruka again, would fill in the gaps Haruka couldn't, or simply wouldn't, and would let him just _be_. 

And what he wanted to be, just now, was not here, standing in the open doors between the outside world and the dormitory lobby, but rather up two flights of stairs, knocking insistently to beg entrance and wishing, more than he wanted to admit, that Rin might be a bit more like Makoto, might understand what he wanted without his having to say it.

But Rin was not Makoto, was as much _not Makoto_ as it was possible to be, so instead of opening the door to Haruka's persistent knocking, seeing the look in his eyes and swallowing through a nod before calling over his shoulder to Nitori that he was going for a run, he mouthed a silent, perplexed, "Haru…?" before grousing a disaffected, "The hell are you still doing here? I thought you left already."

Haruka's hand slowly dropped back to his side, still clenched in the fist he'd used to rap on the door, and he flicked his gaze over Rin's shoulder, catching Nitori watching them curiously from the top bunk. He had a book in his lap and a pencil in one hand—and looked very much like he wanted to see this confrontation play out. Haruka fought his natural inclination to glance away and furrow his brows, waiting for someone to divine his desires, and instead forced his lips to work: "I wanted to swim some more."

And now Rin's expression shifted from mild irritation to outright confusion. "…You just _finished_ swi—" he started, before apparently realizing who he was speaking with and thinking better of the argument. He sighed, long-suffering, and ducked his head, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck in frustration—before tossing over his shoulder at last, "Nitori—I'm stepping out. Be back later."

"Eh—Rin-sempai?!" came the sharp protest, and Nitori scrambled about on the top bunk for a moment before he was blocked from sight as Rin pulled the door shut behind him with a huff.

"Let's go," he muttered without much bite, brushing past to lead the way, and Haruka wondered distantly why he hadn't put up more of a fight; even Makoto would at least try to talk him into just enjoying a nice bath or putting off a second dip for the next day if he'd already indulged. 

Haruka traipsed after obediently, eyes catching on the ties hanging down from the back of the Samezuka jacket, waving back and forth with Rin's rolling pace and tempting Haruka to reach out and bat them like a cat, or just grab on for dear life. Doing either would probably give Rin pause to reconsider allowing Haruka back into the natatorium, though, and so he refrained, instead jogging forward to fall into step alongside Rin.

Their footsteps on the stairs echoed in the empty stairwell, the only sounds between them as they made their way to the pool. From the corner of his eye, Haruka could catch Rin's profile, stiff and stern but frail, like on a fine edge, and if he were pushed one way or the other, he was bound to topple, but he was managing to hold himself together remarkably well. 

Rin must have felt his eyes on him, for he flicked his gaze over and frowned. "…What?"

Haruka just shrugged. "Nothing." And everyone knew that 'nothing' never meant _nothing_ , but perhaps Rin had learned that Haruka would not be goaded into conversation nearly as easily as he might be into a relay team or tournament entry, and so Rin simply snorted softly and snapped a hand out, jerking a heavy metal door open and stepping through as they backtracked the path they'd taken as a group earlier up to Rin's room from the pool.

The hallways of Samezuka were winding—and dim, this late in the afternoon; Haruka silently memorized them, for no particular reason and certainly not so that he might be better able to navigate on his own should he find himself needing to take advantage of the academy's rather stupendous facilities. No other students passed them, most out likely enjoying their weekend rather than staying cooped up in the well-kept but rather dreary dormitories. Haruka had decided only moments after stepping into Rin's room that, indoor pool or no, Samezuka would never have been a place for him—not least of all because of the pressure they placed on their swimmers to improve their time or place in tournaments. He couldn't wrap his mind around how Rin _stood_ it. 

But then, this was nothing new; he'd never entirely grasped how Rin—how _people_ in general could get so caught up in niggling details like speed or who came in first or fourth or fifteenth when it was overwhelming and fulfilling enough as it was just to _be_ in the water. The only reason to want to swim faster, to begrudge anyone who was faster than _you_ , was to ensure that you were feeling the water to the best of your abilities—and if you weren't, then why on earth wouldn't you want to rectify that? How could anyone sit there and bear not being as _close_ as possible to this peaceful place, this _thing_ that accepted everything and never demanded more or less than what it was given?

A breeze washed over him, carrying in its wake the clean smell of chlorine, artificial lighting bright and stark against the darkening world beyond the high windows on the far wall of the natatorium. It was quiet—vast and empty and lonely, but Haruka loved it like that. He didn't mind sharing the pool, didn't _care_ really; but nothing beat the warm sanctity of open waters, with only his own strokes disturbing the surface.

He was already fidgeting with his buttons before he'd taken two steps in, fighting the urge to lick his lips in anticipation. He could almost _feel_ it calling out to him, beckoning Haruka into its embrace, where he only needed to focus on the strength of his kick, the roll of his hips, the slide of water over his face, the gulps of breath. 

His bag had been dropped to the floor, overshirt fluttering down beside it, and as he struggled to unbuckle his pants, he caught Rin's amused, "Hope you brought a third suit."

"Huh?" Haruka glanced up, shoulders hunched and fingers tugging on the uncooperative buckle, and blinked owlishly. "Third?"

"You're not gonna have anything to wear, otherwise." And he had a point; Haruka's suit from earlier was still soaked and likely wouldn't be fit to ride home in even after this second dip. 

He frowned to himself, for the first time reconsidering indulging, then shrugged to himself. "I'll just wear one of yours home."

" _Excuse_ me?" Rin laughed, tone devoid of mirth, and he crossed his arms as he swung himself around to place his body in Haruka's line of sight. "I'm not loaning you a suit. You're the one whining about wanting another run in the pool; you'll have to live with the consequences: pants that look like you pissed yourself."

Haruka finished unbuckling and let his slacks pool at his feet, daintily stepping out of them and shoving them off to the side. He ignored the commentary; Rin would gripe and complain, but in the end, he would still loan him a fresh suit. He'd learned by now that if Rin could push him out of his comfort zone, could goad him and prod him into doing things he decidedly _did not want_ , he held the same sway over Rin. 

It was…thrilling, pushing someone until they broke and did as you wanted, not because they _wanted_ to please you, like Makoto, but because they couldn't help but sit up and take notice, responding to your desires like they were their own.

Now he kind of understood why Rin seemed to do it so much.

He snapped the elastic on the band of his suit, smoothing down the material and gauging the give and tug against his body; it wouldn't do to have any bunching or riding creating drag in the water. Squatting in place, he rifled through his bag and found his goggles and swim cap in a small plastic bag, tugging them free and checking the band before running fingers through his hair to slick it back away from his face.

The tile was cool under his feet, a welcome chill, and he paused at the edge as he adjusted the cap and goggles, carefully training his breathing—it was so easy to get overexcited. It almost felt like the thrill that ran through him before a race—not necessarily the thrill of competing, but the thrill of having some impetus to _push himself_ , to try and be more _at one_ with the water, to coax it into accepting him more completely.

He frowned, staring out over the emptiness as he tucked his hair up into the cap. Something was missing.

Cocking his head to the side, he regarded Rin at his back without turning to give him his full attention, truthfully unable to entirely tear himself away from the vast blue before him. "…Well?"

"Well what?" The voice came from further back than Haru had expected; Rin had stepped back, was leaning against the wall now, arms crossed over his chest.

His frown deepened, and he shifted in place, placing himself in profile. Rin didn't move. "Aren't you coming?"

An ambiguous waving of his hand. "Some of us don't feel the need to be submerged 24-7. Get another few laps in before they lock up for the evening if you're so set on it. Otherwise, I've got an English assignment due Monday."

"You can leave if you like, then."

Rin snorted incredulously. "We aren't allowed to use the pool alone, for one, and for another—you're not even a student at this school. Like hell I'd be allowed to let an outsider just make himself at home in our pool." And for some reason, Haru felt a twinge of irritation at _outsider_ and _our pool_ , which was absolutely irrational and completely uncalled for. He _was_ an outsider; this _was_ Rin's pool. He knew that.

It was just…strange to see Rin accepting that. Perhaps the bloom really had fallen off the rose, then; it was back to rivals, back to competitors, back to _us versus them_ , just with markedly less stress and fewer garbage cans kicked over in fits of dejected frustration.

"Oi, geez," came a grumbled, weary voice. "Don't have to look like I just told you the ocean ran out of mackerel so you're stuck with salmon for the rest of your life. I just don't feel like taking another shower tonight."

Haruka's brows furrowed, taking a small step back as Rin approached, jacket tied around his waist and a strange, torn expression on his features. He nodded toward the pool. "Go on. I'll watch."

And, permission finally granted and reluctance on Rin's part explained, Haruka mounted one of the starting blocks and crouched down to stare out across the pool. If he let his focus drift, let everything take on a soft blur, he could hear frantic splashing and deafening cheers, could _see_ Rin powering down the lane toward him, each leaping stroke sending him nearly flying out of the water as he inched home, arms outstretched to brush the wall—

_Haru!_

Like a bullet from a gun, Haruka shot into the water before he realized what he was doing, the shock to his system as he slipped through the surface jolting him back to the present. It was just him, just him in the water right now, and the only person remotely close to a teammate was sitting on the sidelines, again, just watching.

His gasp as he came up for air halfway down the lane was embarrassingly loud, so much so that he could hear it echoing off of the distant walls, but he closed off his focus and instead chose to listen only to his heartbeat thudding in his chest, from combination of effort and strain and nerves and something altogether unnameable. He twisted in an arc as he hit the far wall, legs coiling like a spring before sending him shooting back down the lane, back toward Rin. He stopped caring about how loud his breaths were and settled for just thinking about pushing himself faster, harder, with more and more desperation. It didn't have to be about times or beating anyone, and just because Rin wasn't in the water with him didn't mean he couldn't still _use_ that need, that _whatever_ that Rin stoked in him.

Rin was waiting for him, just 20 meters away—and 15 now, and 10. Just 5 more meters and he'd be _right there_ close enough to touch, if he just reached out and—

His fingers brushed the wall, scrambling up to grip the edge, and he clung to the side, face ducked down staring at the water as he waited for the world to come back together.

"…Well _that_ was a shitty run."

Something bumped against his shoulder, and Haruka cocked his head to the side, shoulders still heaving, and found Rin's leg brushing against him, track suit pants rolled up to the knee as he let his feet dangle in the water.

Rin kicked him again, little force in the motion. "Oi, what the hell was that?"

Haruka followed the leg up, over the black track pants with that jagged, monochrome design and along the crisp white tank top until he met Rin's accusing gaze. "What…was what?" He tried to swallow—but his mouth was too dry, and he grimaced.

Rin jerked his chin down the lane. "Looked like you had a shark on your tail or something. Like you were swimming for your life."

 _Maybe I was_ , he wanted to say, but bit his tongue. He hadn't felt like he was swimming from something, honestly; rather…it was more like he was swimming _toward_ something. A goal.

But saying that would be even worse, so instead, he just curled against the wall, waiting for his breathing to calm, and didn't flinch when he listed to the side, leaning into Rin's leg for support. It was warm and solid and comforting, more so than the water even, just now. 

"…Why'd you really come back?"

Haruka's eyes fluttered back open, and it was dark and calm here facing the water, the surface glinting with ripples and breaking the solitude now and then. He frowned; why did Rin have to ask all the hard questions? He twisted his head up, neck aching with the effort. "To swim."

"Bull," he spit back, but his features softened in the wake of the retort. "I mean, really— _why_?"

Haruka let his gaze drop again, glancing out over his shoulder to the empty pool behind him. The sky through the windows was a deep azure, stark contrast to the soft teals of the pool under the artificial lights. He unconsciously leaned more insistently against Rin's leg, words almost lost in the material, "To swim with you."

There was a long beat of silence, then a soft huff. "Why didn't you say so sooner, idiot? I'm not Makoto, here." And then the leg was gone, and Haruka jerked away from the side, treading water as Rin rose up, tall and lean. The tank was gone in short order, tossed haphazardly to the side, and he shimmied out of his tracksuit with one hand on the hem, using the other to tug down the material over his legs.

"…You put on another suit?"

Rin shrugged, stepping over to a line of lockers and jerking one open to retrieve his swim cap and goggles. "Felt like you'd be back."

Haruka paused, watching him ready for a run. "…I thought you didn't want to take another shower."

"I don't want to have to look at your guilty kicked puppy expression _more_ than I don't want to take another shower." Haruka must have made a face, for Rin released a bark of laughter. "C'mon, don't give me that. You should've seen your face. Fiercer pout than any I've ever seen on Nagisa."

"I wasn't _pouting_ ," Haruka insisted with an irritated huff, but still lifted himself from the water at Rin's raised brow. He adjusted his goggles anew and took his stance on the starting block. He could hear his heart thudding in his chest again, more from nerves and excitement than the ragged run he'd just completed, and he worried for a moment that Rin could hear it too, would know how much he wanted it—before he remembered that Rin had wanted it first, had been expecting it, so there really was no sense in fighting it.

 _Just accept it, enjoy it, give yourself up to it_. Everything went smoother that way, in life and in the water—hadn't Nagisa said that at some point? He could be disturbingly on-point at times...

"What do I get?"

Haruka was snapped from his reverie, face washing over with confusion, and he found Rin staring him down with a smile poorly belying his excitement and a challenging glint in his eyes. "What?"

"When I beat you—which I'm going to do—what do I get?" He nodded to the lane he was standing before. "I'm gonna have to take another shower, and you're putting me an hour and counting behind on my English assignment. I better get something."

Haruka paused in thought, frowning to himself; what was he supposed to say at a time like this? An offer to treat him to dinner the next time they were out together? A new pair of goggles (the straps on that pair had to be giving after so much _snapping_ )? 

And then his mouth was opening before he could stop himself, and what came tumbling out was, "You can teach me Butterfly."

Where had _that_ come from? Rin seemed to feel much the same confusion, for he blinked stupidly, jaw hanging slightly open, before releasing a soft sound of surprise. "You…what?"

What, indeed. He didn't like Butterfly; liked it even less than Breast or Back. Too much work, too much _demanding_ that the water let him through rather than working with it to find a way to coexist, for the water to accept him and welcome him. Rin was a sight to watch—and Rei too, in his own way—but…it wasn't for him. Free, and only Free, was where he belonged. But instead of explaining this, he repeated, "You…can teach me Butterfly."

He really didn't like Butterfly; he already _knew_ how to swim Butterfly. He only swam Free, and yet here he was, offering up this opportunity like a carrot on a stick—and strangely enough, it seemed to be _working_ , for Rin's lips quirked up on one side in a lop-sided grin, and he snapped his goggles on, mounting the starting block and vibrating with excitement.

They didn't discuss what Haruka might demand if he won, and Haruka didn't press for it; he worried too much that if given the choice, he'd ask Rin to teach him Butterfly in exchange.

Haruka bent into a crouch, listening to Rin give the count as if from far away, and while he tried to lose himself in the moment, his focus kept being drawn inexorably to the body next to his own, Rin's own heat radiating and searing like a brand. He would have to free himself of this habit, he noted solemnly; it would prove far too distracting when they faced off in a heat together, and if he lost—when he lost— _everyone_ would surely know the humiliating reason why.

His fingers were white-knuckled, gripping the block, and he closed his eyes, Rin's voice echoing in his ears until the count ended and he leapt blindly into space.

* * *

This wasn't the Butterfly.

He couldn't entirely recall how they'd gotten here, could only grasp snatches of out-of-context memory just now, like trying to remember a dream, and it was mostly filled with Rin—Rin's victory roar as he brushed the wall only a hair quicker than Haruka; Rin hauling himself out of the water and extending an arm down to draw Haruka out behind him; Rin stumbling backwards and promptly down onto his ass, the momentum and his grip tugging Haruka down after him; Rin on his back and breathing heavily, grin wide from the victory high and ducking his head to draw Haruka's gaze up to him; Rin's breath hitching when Haruka tried to slide off of him and brushed accidentally— _accidentally_ —over his crotch; Rin cursing like a sailor with _shit fuck no, Haru, that's—_ when he did it a second time, just out of curiosity really; Rin trying to explain, cheeks flushed with shame, that it was _just a victory boner, athletes get 'em all the time, it's the adrenaline and the endorphins doing shit I can't explain_.

He hadn't needed to explain, as it turned out.

The harsh, artificial lighting of the natatorium made it difficult to miss the bulging outline of Rin's cock stiffening in his suit as Haruka traced it with sure fingers, learning the gentle curve of the shaft as it strained for release from the suit. Rin trembled silently, watching him work with wide, frightened eyes and shock painted clearly on his expression—but he made no other move to stop or deter Haruka from his exploration. 

_'…He can't swim with this,'_ was his only thought—and he might have been ashamed that that was all that was on his mind, had he any remote grasp of the situation they were in, but he'd just lost a race, and he was high on adrenaline too, and so all he could think was _it'll create too much drag in the water_. 

He must have said the last part out loud, because Rin almost shrieked, " _That's_ what you're worried about?!" and Haruka's head shot up, no longer mesmerized by the hard cock in Rin's suit—or less mesmerized, at least—and enthralled with the desperately pursed lips and deep flush that spoke of more than simply shame. He looked like he was going to cry, and Haruka didn't know what he wanted to do about that.

"…Well, it _will_."

"No _fuck_ it it will; it'd be fine if you'd stop _touching_ it." But Haruka just gave a gentle, curious squeeze about where the head was, giving a little jerk of surprise when Rin responded by bucking his hips up sharply to meet his fingers and hissing something that sounded suspiciously like encouragement. When he found his voice again, though, it was choked and desperate and not encouraging at all. "Please…dammit stop, Haru—"

And Haruka immediately pulled his hand away, rocking back onto the balls of his feet and going chilled, eyes wide and penitent. He didn't know what he'd been about to do, but he'd been sure Rin would like it, had thought all of those sounds, the little, jerky movements, had been arousal. But that tone had sucked all of the inquisitiveness and curiosity out of the moment, like a splash of cold water, and Haruka swallowed thickly, wondering if he ought to perhaps take a few slow laps of the pool to recover his senses—and let Rin take care of himself, while he was at it. 

But Rin's hand snapped out, gripping tight about Haruka's wrist, and he refused to let go. " _Shit_ , what'd I tell you about looking at me like that? Manipulative asshole…" He awkwardly shifted to his side, rolling up onto his knees and tugging Haruka with him as he rose to his feet again, walking a bit awkwardly as he tried to adjust himself with his free hand. "There's cameras on the pool, idiot… Don't you ever think?"

Which was a ridiculous question, when Haruka thought about it, because of course he hadn't _thought_ about trying to grope Rin through his swimsuit, definitely hadn't considered the consequences of brushing a thigh insistently over his crotch. Hell, he was lucky if he remembered to check to see if the pool was filled before trying to dive in half the time. Forethought was not his strong point—he usually left that up to Makoto. But Makoto was not here to tell him if it was a good idea or not to grab Rin's dick again when they stepped around a barrier of lockers and found a long, narrow bench to make use of—so Haruka made the decision himself.

"Sh—shit, not through—my suit—idiot—" Rin tried, choking on his own words as Haruka guided him down and then flat on his back on the bench, batting his flailing hands away with one arm while his other renewed his grip with clear intent this time, the softening outline rallying once more under his ministrations. Rin eventually stopped his protests, both physical and verbal, instead gripping the bench tight and snapping his hips up sharply if he thought Haruka's attentions were too measured. " _Fuck_ Haru, Haru, _Haru_ …" he murmured, little more than curses or Haruka's name finding purchase on his lips, and since Haruka by and large preferred silence himself, he didn't feel the need to add to the din.

Haruka balanced carefully on the narrow bench, eyes trained to a hard focus on Rin's flushed cheeks and ears and neck, a splash of red coloring his upper chest, which heaved raggedly as Haruka stroked. His attentions were smooth and regular, not yet the frantic tugging he knew would be needed—craved—to get off. He just…wanted to observe right now. He'd never thought himself a glutton for this kind of sight, but something about Rin, something about seeing such a proud person brought so very low, made so weak and vulnerable, ignited something inside of him that pressed for _more_. 

This was better than Butterfly lessons anyway.

Rin grew fitful, murmurs less frequently Haruka's name and more frequently cursing or urges to _hurry up and get me off you son of a bi—_ before he lost his words on a particularly insistent tug of his cock mostly because Haruka wanted to see what happened. Rubbing the shaft just kept him interested and unfulfilled—but swipes across the crown, which had listed to the side and was threatening to peek out through the translucent mesh material just at Rin's inner thigh, drove him to desperation, and he eventually lost his grip on the bench and snapped his hands up to clench his fingers in the meat of Haruka's biceps, pulling him down and close.

His breath was hot and fast and labored, and his eyes glared daggers. "Let me cum, you asshole. _Please_ , just touch me already." And before Haruka could argue or acquiesce, one of Rin's hands snaked down between them and wrapped about his wrist, pulling him away just to guide the fingers under the hem of his suit, grunting with relief and a soft moan when Haruka's fingers relaxed and curled about the hard shaft. " _Shit_ that's…yes…" His lids fluttered closed, and he tried a few awkward thrusts, but in his position, on the hard bench, he wasn't getting anywhere.

Haruka reworked the angle of his grip to achieve a surer, more comfortable grasp, and began working the cock in his hand as if it were his own, watching the play of expression over Rin's features curiously. So _expressive_ , he never held anything back. This was what it was supposed to be like—just giving himself up to the moment, letting the sensation wash over him, being carried away by touch and tug. This was how Haruka felt in the water—and now he'd found a way to let Rin feel it too.

A wave of excitement and emotion roiled up within at this realization, churning up the silty, soft core of his being into a maelstrom of _movement_ , and he renewed his efforts to bring Rin off, licking his lips and relaxing his wrist to slide more freely. His hand was nearly a blur, and Rin bucked on every other pass, choked " _Ha—ru—_ "s falling from his lips in breathy, haggard cries.

Haruka shifted in place on the bench uncomfortably, his own hard cock demanding attentions he couldn't spare it just now; it strained at his suit, staining the front with expectation, but he ignored it for the time being. There was far more pleasure to be gained from watching Rin fall apart beneath him, and he knew he had to be close, could practically see the wall approaching with startling speed, just 10 more meters, another 5 now, and hands stretched out to brush that bright, brilliant goal of Rin's—

Rin's back arched with a silent cry, shoving himself into Haruka's hand as he dribbled over the fingers and tugged-down hem of his suit. Thick white rivulets spurted pathetically, matting the material and Haruka's fingers, and Haruka's breath caught at the sight, voice freezing with a soft squeak in his throat. He grabbed on to the meat of Rin's thighs with both hands, clenching his jaw for focus, and began rolling his hips into the comfortable curve of Rin's groin, his cock brushing through his suit over the spread where leg melded into hip. After only a few frantic thrusts, he was spilling inside his own suit, pressing hard against Rin, with purpose and intent he couldn't quite explain, refusing to relax against the bench again until he'd spent himself dry—at which point he all but collapsed on top of Rin, who released a strained _oof_ of offense.

Hands came up against his shoulders, lifting him up and off—but just far enough for Rin to cock his head to the side and nose in close, searching with his lips until they brushed together, each too exhausted to initiate more than just this close sharing of space and breath. Rin's lips were dry and flushed and trembling, like the rest of him, and when Haruka reached up to brush fingers over his bicep, he was shocked to see he was as well. But it wasn't nerves—it was _excitement_. Even through the exhaustion and relief of release, he wanted more, wanted to never leave this _space_ they shared just now, didn't want to have to talk about—

"You still better let me teach you Butterfly," Rin whispered groggily against Haruka's lips, and he could _hear_ the smile in his words. "You promised, if I won."

"Already gave you something," Haruka argued weakly, relaxing his body to collapse against Rin completely—but Rin continued to shove him away by the shoulders, far enough this time, to glare at him directly.

"That was a freebie, then; I didn't ask for it."

"No," Haruka agreed evenly, shrugging awkwardly in their position. "You begged for it."

" _Get off me_ , asshole," he groused, but the smile he failed to suppress belied his good mood, and Haruka relented, letting himself be shoved off as he slipped back onto the bench. He frowned down at the fingers still covered in sticky, glue-like semen and began casting about for a wash station. "Showers are through there." He followed the jerk of Rin's chin before nodding silently and wobbling to his feet on unsteady legs. "Try not to slip and crack your head open."

Haruka gave him a look that he hoped chided him for being absurd, then thought better of it. "…You're not coming?"

Rin settled back down onto the bench on his back, eyes closed with one arm over them, and waved him off. "In a sec; I'm still…a little winded."

Haruka paused just at the threshold of the doorway into the showers and regarded Rin—reflected on what he'd just done and why, before steeling himself. "…Next weekend."

Rin didn't move, but his response was delayed, and his tone sounded strained, like he was trying to feign calm. "Hm?"

"…You can teach me Butterfly next Saturday." He didn't wait to see how Rin reacted—only trusted that he'd understand. Would know what it meant that someone who only swam for the purpose of swimming, who'd only ever swum for _himself_ was stretching his boundaries, reaching out for others, for friends, to share what he loved with them and in turn receive that love back ten-fold. He wasn't coming back to learn Butterfly. He was coming back to learn about _Rin_.

And that would be a hell of a lot harder than Butterfly ever had seemed.

He snapped a hand out and jerked the knob of the first shower head hard to the right, sending a chilly spray pelting down which quickly heated to a warm, comfortable temperature. He didn't bother stripping his suit off just yet, figuring he'd need to wheedle another one out of Rin—and maybe relieve the dorm laundry room of a clean towel, since his own was still damp from his earlier dip. 

Feet slapped the tile behind him, barely detectable over the sound of the shower, and the curtain blocking off the unit next to his own rustled as Rin stepped in, only his feet visible. They didn't speak, didn't really have any need or reason, and Haruka breathed in deep, trusting that he was inhaling the same thick steam Rin was, that the water streaming off of their bodies would pool and become one, somewhere, eventually, leading out into the ocean. So much freer than they themselves were.

Haruka swallowed thickly, then jerked the curtain to the side, striding forward and ignoring Rin's frightened squawk of surprise as he reached out and pulled him in tight and close, closing his eyes and inhaling deep, shuddering breaths of relief. At length, tentative arms came up behind him, just pressing against his shoulder blades and resting comfortably as Rin let Haruka hold him tight.

The water flowed over them, into their eyes and down their necks and over their shoulders and chests to drip onto the floor. "Don't leave me behind again…"

He could feel Rin heating up, flushing with embarrassment at the unexpected display of emotion. "Id—idiot, you're the one who left _me_ out there—it's just a shower—"

"Not _that_ ," Haruka hissed, squeezing harder. "Just…keep showing me sights. Even if I say I don't want to see them."

And he could feel the tension and confusion slipping, sliding off of Rin like the little rivulets of water pelting them, the hands splayed over his shoulder blades coming up to grip more surely over his shoulders and press their chests together, face going into the crook of Haruka's neck where he just nodded silently. The water started to grow chilled before they let go.

Haruka missed the last bus that evening.


End file.
